The Bard
by fenielin
Summary: A young elleth was left in the world of the men to learn how to survive. When a group of strangers arrives in Edoras, does she have what it takes to overcome her own personal demons and make a new life? Eventual Legolas/OC. Update on weekends.
1. Chapter 1

Rohan is a lovely place full of gently swaying grass, lazy clouds, clear lakes, rolling hills, and a bright blue sky. The people for the most part are kind and brave, deeply set in their traditions. But that was before. Before Saruman, before Gríma, before the dark days.

Théoden, Rohan's king, has fallen into Gríma's clutches. He pushes away help, listening only to that whelp of a man, that sniveling mess of cowardice, shielding himself with Saruman's power. So I decide to do what little I can.

No one takes me seriously. Possibly because of my outlandish mannerisms. I refuse to wear dresses unless absolutely necessary, finding them cumbersome. Or it could be my looks. My eyes are slanted almost sleepily and have an odd silver color to them that change tints according to my mood and my hair is a bit shinier than the standard Rohan blonde, and lays straight down my back, swishing between my shoulder blades. My body is lithe despite my unusually tall height, resulting in nearly nonexistent curves. Then there's the ears with odd pointed tips. It's probably to do with my birth parents. They were unknown to everyone; they had left me at an elderly couple's doorstep as a babe. They had died when I was but nine winters old in an Orc raid and I've been on my own since.

Storming up the palace steps, I earn surprised glances from the guards which quickly turn to leers. Knowing that at least one will attempt to grope me, I draw a blade and drive it into the wall behind the clearly stronger guard.

"I won't miss next time." I growl, yanking the blade out, and continuing into the palace.

"Hey! You can't take weapons in there!" The smaller guard shouts, but I pay him no mind. Gríma looks up for only a moment before whispering in Théoden's ear.

"What do you need?" squeaks Gríma.

"I need you to die," I snarl. "You have plagued Rohan long enough!"

"There shall be no killing," Théoden drones. Time for plan B.

"Then accept me as a warrior,"

"A shield maiden would be more suitable,"

"I don't wish to cater to your whims. I wish to serve my country,"

"Why should I let you when you openly threaten my consult?"

"Because you are still the Théoden that cares for his people, and that the people love and respect. You know that Gríma is a pestilent, little tumor,"

The great doors behind me swing open, but I ignore the sound of approaching people. A slow, venomous grin begins to form across my face.

"I believe your time has come, Wormtongue," I cackle, drawing a blade a quarter at an inch out of its sheath, knowing full well I'll be stopped by whoever walked in.

"Sir now is not the time to take out your hostilities," A man says, gripping my shoulder tightly.

"Sir? Who is this 'sir' you speak of?" I beam, dropping the hilt, and turning to my restrainer.

"My apologies miss," The man ducks his head briefly, then looks at me oddly.

"Tell me, what is it the timbre of my voice or my garb that confused you? I shall take no offense, I am merely curious. Some days I wonder if the way my voice sounds in my head is the same as what others hear."

"Aragorn, come along," An elderly man clad in white commands. He looks at me oddly as well. Aragorn shifted back to the group of men with the elder leading them. A sight I never thought I would see greets my inspection. A dwarf and an elf walking side by side companionably. They give me that same weird look.

"Is there a bird in my hair, perhaps?" I slit my eyes suspiciously.

"No-" The elf begins.

"Sorry for interrupting... whatever it is you are doing, but we have an urgent matter to discuss with the king." Interrupts the elder.

"I am done here anyway. Good luck getting anything out of him with that rat bastard poisoning his mind." I turn to leave and am stopped by Théoden's voice.

"I accept your request. Your first task is to get a dress on and bring an instrument back. Éowyn has told me of your musical talent."

"Sounds dreary. Very well." Stretching, I saunter out of the palace and down the street to my small cottage. Only two dresses are in my wardrobe. One for celebration and one for mourning. Sighing, I pull the green and blue celebration dress on after stripping from my breeches and tunic. I don't put my shoes back on.

Before selecting an instrument, I head out the back door to a small pasture. My beautiful dun mare trots to me, knocking me back with her massive head. She is clearly a young animal both by demeanor and appearance. Only five years old, I've raised her since she was a foal. Already she is calmer than most of the old war horses the Rohirrim keep around.

"Hey Rana," I giggle, feeding her tulip.

!"You should not be dilly dallying. Take your lute. It's your best."! She snorts.

"Eh... All right. Don't get into trouble."

!"No promises."!

"I should be back before the moon is high."

!"Okay, mom."! I rub her nose, and then head back inside for my lute. As I waltz back to the palace, I tune. The village children trickle from their homes, pleading with me to play for them.

"Cresa! Won't you please play for us! Just one!" A little boy begs. The other kids take up his pleas, and I have little choice but to give in.

"I have to sing while I walk. Théoden is expecting me." I laugh cheerily.

"I bet he's gonna arrange a marriage for you and Éomer!" A little girl beams. I do not have the heart to tell them of Éomer's banishment.

"I doubt that. How about that song now?

Shule, shule, shule aroon/ Shule go succir agus, shule go kewn/ Shule go durrus oggus aylig lume/ Shule, shule, shule aroon/ Shule go succir agus, shule go kewn/ Shule go durrus oggus aylig lume/ Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn/ I wish I was on yonder hill/ Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill/ And every tear would turn a mill/ I'll sell my rod, I'll sell my reel/ I'll sell my only spinning wheel/ To buy my love a sword of steel/ Shule, shule, shule aroon/ Shule go succir agus, shule go kewn/ Shule go durrus oggus aylig lume/ Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn/ I'll dye my petticoats, I'll dye them red/ And 'round the world I'll beg my bread/ Until my parents shall wish me dead/ Shule, shule, shule aroon/ Shule go succir agus, shule go kewn/ Shule go durrus oggus aylig lume/ Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn/ Shule, shule, shule aroon/ Shule go succir agus, shule go kewn/ Shule go durrus oggus aylig lume/ Shule, shule, shule aroon/ Shule go succir agus, shule go kewn/ Shule go durrus oggus aylig lume, Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn."

"One more?" The boy asks, but I shake my head seeing as we're in front of the castle already. Most of the village children are swarming around me, and normally I would oblige their request, but something seems different today. I climb up the steps with the children following me closely, hoping I'll change my mind. My mouth turns to a small 'o' when I see a healthy and furious Théoden pointing a sword at Gríma's throat. A small grim smile flashes across my face before I remember that the children are still behind me.

"Kids, go home! Go!" I shout, throwing my arms out futilely to block their view, and in the process i drop my lute. The older kids pull away their siblings and neighbors, leaving me with one little boy too frightened to move. My best friend's, Miena's, son.

"Rhoryn, sweetie, come here," I lower my voice almost to a whisper and extend my arms to the young boy. He races into my embrace and I pick him up, tucking his head against my neck so he can't see anything. I walk with purpose to take him back home, not caring about my abandoned instrument. "I am taking you home to your mommy, okay?"

"Okay, Auntie," He murmurs. He's close to falling asleep and soon his breathing slows to signal his rest. I pet his hair as I walk and I come across Cauwen, Miena's neighbor.

"She is not home yet. Would you like me to watch the boy?" Cauwen smiles gently.

"I have him. Thank you." I reply smoothly. With that, I head back to the palace humming an old tune to fetch my lute and tell Gaenry, Miena's husband, that I'll be watching his son until Miena returns home from her job. Gríma slams into me just as I reach the palace steps. Miraculously, I keep Rhoryn from hitting the dirt and he actually remains asleep. The strange men folk rush down to help me up, but I dismiss them, using one hand to push myself up and the other to hold the boy steady.

"Cresa? Are you alright? Kincaid said he saw you fall." Gaenry rushes over.

"I am fine, as is your son," I roll my eyes. "You are a poor guard what with letting Gríma knock down a civilian."

"Your wit knows no bounds. I see why Miena keeps you close. Are you sure you are fine? You seem to have a head wound."

"I do? Perfect." I hand Rhoryn to Gaenry and probe my scalp for blood. There's a deep gash running from my hairline to my ear. "Gaenry, fetch Haiweth and tell her I've hit my head. Leave Rhoryn with Cauwen if her offer to watch him still stands. It would be better for his young eyes not to see this blood."

Gaenry departs with a nod.

"That was not necessary. I could have tended to you." Aragorn says.

"But I would not know that if you had not just told me. Besides, you are a mysterious stranger who keeps odd company. A wizard, a man, an elf, and a dwarf." I grin despite the growing pain in my head. My vision flashes between nothing and ultra-intense colors, a sign of the what has yet to come. I lower myself to a crouch, which is awkward in my dress, to lessen the blow.

"Are you well?" The elf asks.

"What do you think?" I snap, much sharper than I intended. A rush of color springs to my eyes and then it goes black. Two small beings, hobbits I believe, lie curled up on a rock, surrounded by molten rock, coated in thick red blood. They don't appear to be breathing. A large, flaming eye trains its gaze on me.

"Cresa, I can give you the answers you want, if you help me," It croons. "You can be so much more than you are, if you let me into your mind. You can be a queen."

"I am not that petty." I snarl, glaring at the eye. It trembles with rage, the flames curling wildly. Water breaks me from the vision. With a hiss, I lash out at the closest object, my sight still dark from the vision. When the darkness lifts, I see Aragorn leaning over me with an angry red welt on his forehead. I'm surprised that he watched over me. Then I realize that I'm still in the dirt now surrounded by the odd men, Théoden, Éowyn, Gaenry, Haiweth, and Miena.

"I am afraid you interrupted something," I frown. "Though I am sorry I struck you."

"It is fine. Many do not appreciate water being dumped on them." Aragorn chuckles. "I do not believe we have been properly introduced. I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and my companions are Gimli, son of Glóin, Legolas of the Woodland Realm, and Gandalf the White."

"Tis a pleasure. If I may ask a question, do you know of two hobbits that may be connected with an eye? One is blonde and stout and the other has dark curly hair."

"How do you know of the hobbits?" Gandalf cuts in, voice icy.

"She sees the future," Miena pipes up.

"Miena, do not-" Gaenry starts, bewildered she would say something.

"Gaenry, it is best not to interfere with the dealings of outsiders." I cut him off. "I expect the hobbits were their companions for a time."

"What did ye see?" Gimli glares accusingly at me.

"You have to understand that what I see is not definite. Things change, events may come to pass that should not have even a minute ago."

"Tell us of the hobbits," Aragorn commands.

"They were bloodied and still on the side of a molten mountain. It was difficult to tell whether they lived. An eye conversed with me, and I believe I insulted it by refusing it access to my mind."

"Sauron has already trained his eye upon Edoras. I must go find Éomer. I will be back in five days time. Look for me at dawn." And Gandalf leaves in a swish of his robes.

"Alright, child, time to get you cleaned up." Haiweth scurries over to me, pulling me up, and dragging me down the street. "Pardon lads, but it's mainly due to you!"

"Kidnapper!" I shriek girlishly, but the pair of us begin cracking up. I turn to yell at the group we left behind to see Gaenyr and Miena giggling at my antics while the men look confused. I spot my prized instrument in Miena's arms and rip away from Haiweth to fetch it.

"Thank you mellonamin (my friend)!" I shout, racing back to Haiweth. "Sing with me, Haiweth!

Far over the Misty Mountains rise/ Leave us standing upon the heights/ What was before, we see once more/ Our kingdom a distant light-"

"Hush, girl. The newcomers are staring." Haiweth scolds, but there's a tint of amusement to her tone.

"Loosen up! Live a little!

-Fiery mountain beneath the moon/ The words unspoken, we'll be there soon/ For home a song that echoes on/ And all who find us will know the tune," To my delight, Haiweth joins in. We're dancing through the street ignoring the stares the Rohirrim give us.

"Some folk we never forget/ Some kind we never forgive/ Haven't seen the back of us yet/ We'll fight as long as we live/ All eyes on the hidden door/ To the Lonely Mountain borne/ We'll ride in the gathering storm/ Until we get our long-forgotten gold/ We lay under the Misty Mountains cold/ In slumbers deep and dreams of gold/ We must awake, our lives to make/ And in the darkness a torch we hold/ From long ago when lanterns burned/ Till this day our hearts have yearned/ Her fate unknown the Arkenstone/ What was stolen must be returned/ We must awake and make the day/ To find a song for heart and soul/ Some folk we never forget/ Some kind we never forgive/ Haven't seen the end of it yet/ We'll fight as long as we live/ All eyes on the hidden door/ To the Lonely Mountain borne/ We'll ride in the gathering storm/ Until we get our long-forgotten gold/ Far away from Misty Mountains cold." With the final line, we enter my house, locking the door behind us. Rana sticks her head in the back door with a snort.

!"What happened?"! She tosses her head.

"Oh, I got run down by Gríma who just so happened to be fleeing from a wizard, an elf, a dwarf, and the lost king of Gondor," I grin.

"Be careful who you use your telepathy in front of," Haiweth cautions, helping me out of the ruined dress. "You never know who might want to use it for their own benefit."

"I know. Only three know of it. You, Miena, and Gaenyr. Well, and Rana, but I do not believe anyone will be able to drag that our of her. And I know the three of you will keep it with you past your grave."

"Okay. Now go get in the tub. I shall help you with your hair and then we will have to stitch up your head in time for the celebration tonight."

"A celebration? What for? Lute or fiddle?"

"The king has returned to his proper state of mind. Both. Now shoo fly." Smiling at the maternal woman, I slip into the tub, already filled with warm water. Gentle hands push me underwater, and then let me up as they begin undoing tangles. Haiweth massages various flower scented oils into my scalp before rinsing it with cool water from a basin nearby. She hands me my massive towel and heads into the foyer of the cottage. I dry off quickly, letting an electric current run through me to speed up the process. There's a small knock at the door, and I wrap the towel around myself before opening it.

"Wear this tonight," Miena and Haiweth step in, pressing a bundle of cloth into my arms and laying a pair of slippers on the floor. Miena leaves before I can say anything. I unfold the bundle and gasp. A dress that I would wear on a regular basis has somehow been created. It's a pale silver, like moonlight, with a heart shaped neckline. I slip it on to further my inspection of it. It's form-fitting, bringing out normally unimpressive curves, but is loose enough that I can move and it feels like I'm wearing water. The hem barely skims the ground when I walk.

"Did Miena make this?" I ask absently.

"Aye, I helped a bit. We have been working on it for months. It was meant to be your birthday present, but seeing as you are now in possession of only one dress, we decided to give to you now," Haiweth grins. I hug her tightly before she makes me sit on my bed so she can brush out my hair. She does so with delicate efficiency and then sets about weaving small flowers in my pale hair. She insists upon smudging kohl around my eyes, saying it draws you into them, and then promptly pinches my cheeks for "noticeable color". She brings me over to the full length mirror and I can't tear my eyes from the ethereal creature in it. My musician's hands push back a strand of hair so my pointed ears are visible. I actually look like an elf, like I should be traipsing with deer and wandering lonely forests. I've always considered myself a human, despite my obvious elvish descent. I have the biting personality of a man, but the affinity with nature associated with those of the woodland realm. Cresa is not even my name. I adopted it to attempt to assimilate after my foster parents, Seobryn and Kedelilind, were killed in an Orc raid. But today I see that I am an elf and that I always have been.

"You look unreal," Haiweth breathes. A happy giggle slips from me and I embrace the woman again.

"Ni 'lassui (Thank you)," I squeal.

"You are most welcome, Cresa,"

"My name, my real name, is Idhrenniel. I changed it when Lily and Bryn passed."

"Well then, you are most welcome, Idhrenniel."

"Come hodoer (wise one), there is much to celebrate!" I beam, slipping my feet into the slippers Miena brought. They make me feel like I'm barefoot and it's wonderful. I sling my lute across my body and cradle my fiddle and bow. I play long, sweet notes on my fiddle as we walk to the palace. As we pass Miena's house, she and her family wave, rushing out to walk with us.

"Auntie Cresa, you look like a faerie!" Rhoryn giggles, clapping his hands.

"I am not Cresa! I am Idhrenniel once more!" I laugh, twirling around. Oh how silly I must look, but I have finally accepted who I am.

"You are yourself again!" Miena cheers. "I have not seen this bright and bubbly personality since you were a girl!"

"We have arrived!" I holler, throwing open the celebration hall's doors wide. Many people in the hall are perturbed by my uncharacteristic cheeriness, but the children are delighted, and whisk me off to entertain them. The eyes of the newcomers bore into my back as I lead the children in a wild dance.

The kids laugh as we spin around and I break off to drag Miena, Gaenyr, and Haiweth into the circle. Soon I end up dragging many of the people I was close to as a child over. Most of the childrens' parents have joined in the fun, allowing them a moment to forget the war. Watching them makes me grin like a madwoman. I race across the room to get my fiddle from where I had left it. While swaying back, Rhoryn realizes that I intend to play for them. He hugs my legs, staring up at me, "Auntie Ren, can you play us something pretty?"

"I can," I pat his head, "Now go dance, aier (short one)."

He nods, rejoining the throng of dancers. With a broad smile, I begin a tune.

"As I came down through Dale City/ At the hour of twelve at night/ Who should I see but the Dwarven Lady/ Washing her feet by candlelight/ First she washed them, then she dried them/ Over a fire of amber coal/ In all my life I ne'er did see/ A maid so sweet about the soul/ Whack for the toora loora laddy/ Whack for the toora loora lay/ Whack for the toora loora laddy/ Whack for the toora loora lay/ As I came back through Dale City/ At the hour of half past eight/ Who should I spy but the Dwarven Lady/ Brushing her hair in the broad daylight/ First she tossed it, then she brushed it/ On her lap was a silver comb/ In all my life I ne'er did see/ A maid so fair since I did roam/ Whack for the toora loora laddy/ Whack for the toora loora lay/ Whack for the toora loora laddy/ Whack for the toora loora lay/ As I went back through Dale City/ As the sun began to set/ Who should I spy but the Dwarven Lady/ Catching a moth in a golden net/ When she saw me, then she fled me/ Lifting her petticoat over her knee/ In all my life I ne'er did see/ A maid so shy as the Dwarven Lady/ Whack for the toora loora laddy/ Whack for the toora loora lay/ Whack for the toora loora laddy/ Whack for the toora loora lay/ Whack for the toora loora laddy/ Whack for the toora loora lay/ Whack for the toora loora laddy/ Whack for the toora loora lay." I surge into another piece with the skilled grace only practiced musicians can pull off. "With a hammer and nails and a fear of failure/ We are building a shed/ Between here and heaven/ Between the wait and the wedding/ For as long as we both shall be dead/ To the world beyond the boys and the girls/ Trying to keep us calm/ We can practice our lines 'til we're deaf and blind/ To ourselves to each other where it's/ Fall not winter/ Spring not summer/ Cool not cold/ And it's warm not hot/ Have we all forgotten that/ We're getting old/ With an arrow and bow and some seeds left to sow/ We are staking our claim/ On ground so fertile/ We forget who we've hurt along the way/ And reach out for a strange hand to hold/ Someone strong but not bold enough/ To tear down the wall/ 'Cause we're not lost enough to find the stars/ Aren't crossed why align the/ Why fall hard not soft into/ Fall not winter/ Spring not summer/ Cool not cold/ Where it's warm not hot/ Have we all forgotten that/ We're getting old/ Where it's fall not winter/ Spring not summer/ Cool not cold/ Where it's warm not hot/ Has everyone forgotten/ That we're getting old/ Where it's fall not winter/ Spring not summer/ Cool not cold/ Where it's warm not hot/ Have we all forgotten/ That we're getting old." The townsfolk break into an old, Rohirric ballad, swirling and twirling around each other. I lay down my fiddle in a safe place and watch the dancing. Even Éowyn and Théoden are enjoying the merriment. It gives me an idea. I spot my targets leaning against a wall, away from the festivities.

"You know that to make merry, one must participate in the merry-making," I grin. The response I get is a mutual sigh. My smile falters a bit before I regain my composure to ask, "An lema? (long journey?)"

"Very," Aragorn nods solemnly.

"Then loosen up. Take a bath, dance, drink, socialize!"

"A bath?"

"Trust me, it is needed."

"Very well,"

"Le merna salk? Do you want to dance? And I will personally drag all three of you out there no matter the answer."

"I suppose my answer is yes,"

"As is mine," Legolas smiles. I thought him to be very serious, but this small smile proves otherwise.

"I'm not much of a dancer," Gimli groans. "But I'll bet I'm better than an elf!"

I grab Gimli's and Aragorn's hands, pulling them to the group of people with Legolas walking beside us. We're sucked into the children's dance area by Rhoryn pulling my skirts.

"Who are they?" He asks, then points at Legolas. "He's a fairy too!"

"Rhoryn this is Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli. Legolas is an elf, not a fairy." I laugh. Aragorn stoops beside the boy with a friendly grin.

"I am Aragorn." He smiles. "What is your name?"

"Hi Air-uh-gorn. I'm Rhoryn." Rhoryn says, suddenly shy, and he hides behind me. "Auntie Ren will you sing again?"

"Not tonight, aier. But I'll stop by in the morning and sing a special song." I crouch, hugging him. He plays with my hair, pouting.

"Please!"

"Oh, alright, one more. But only one."

"Hehe, yay!"

"Now Rhoryn, can you do me a favor while I get my lute? Can you make sure Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn have fun? You see, they're not very good at having fun. This is a very important job, aier (short one). Only you can do it."

"Okay!" The boy suddenly overcomes his shyness and grabs Aragorn's and Legolas's hands and, making sure Gimli follows; he introduces them to the other children. Some girls start braiding Gimli's beard and Legolas's hair while the boys launch into a tale I recognize instantly. The story I told them when they asked why I looked different from everyone else. A flare of anger surges through me, kindling my movements. My fingers strike a chord at random, and then they tickle a soft tune from my childhood. One that Lily and Bryn taught me.

"Anírach únad/ Egor gurth hen/ Han cenin vi chen lín/ Egor ú-erin le devi/ Tellin men achae/ Brennin men anann/ Rago! Ú-erich leithio/ Ú-erich o nin gwanno. (You want nothing more than this death/ I see it in your eye/ But I cannot let you/ We have come too far/ We have held on too long/ Reach! You cannot let go/ You cannot leave me)," I care naught that the only ones who can understand me are two strangers. I don't even notice the silence in the room until I find myself outside in the same silence. I lean my lute and fiddle against the wall and lean against the railing, staring at the moon. Why did Lily and Bryn know Elvish? They were definitely human. Maybe my parents wrote the songs on the letter they had left with me?

Unconsciously, my hand goes to the necklace I always wear. The only thing my birth parents left for me. They may still be alive... Have they ever tried to visit me? With a growl, I kick the wall. The physical pain fades quickly, leaving only a raw emotional pain. Tears build up in my eyes. Most only cry when frustrated, so what frustrates me? Or am I the exception, sad and alone and cold? Neither Miena nor Haiweth have seemed to notice my absence, for they would have come to comfort me if they had. Gaenyr is probably trying to keep Miena and Rhoryn from breaking something. My only other companions are the children, none of which are old enough to understand my sorrow. Of course there is Éowyn, but we haven't spoken in months. She has no reason to console me. I am alone in all senses. So terribly alone.

But I learn that I am unfortunately not alone, for hands grab me, muffling my voice, and pulling me from the torchlight.


	2. Chapter 2

**"But I learn that I am unfortunately not alone, for hands grab me, muffling my voice, and pulling me from the torchlight."**

"Little elf, I liked your song. Sing for me," A man crows, his hand sliding from my mouth to my breast, and then lower. I open my mouth like I'm going to sing, but I scream, "An ngell nîn edraithenni! (Please save me!)"

The man's hand clamps over my mouth and remains silent for several moments, waiting.

"Nice try little elf, but it looks like no one heard you."

"Think again," A gruff voice responds. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. The man releases me, hand trailing to his belt. A glint of metal catches my eye and I snatch the knife, throwing it far away, and then slam him into the wall with enough force to knock him out.

"Am man theled? (Why? [for what purpose])" Legolas asks.

"Auo garo am man theled? (Why not?)" I shrug. "He had a knife."

"Is he...?" Gimli trails off, poking at the man with his foot.

"Û. (No) Only knocked out."

"Idhrenniel, I believe it is time we heard your story from you." Aragorn says.

"Agreed. Perhaps we can discuss this somewhere else. It is not a tale that I wish to become common knowledge."

"We shall go to our quarters." The men lead me to a good sized room near the back of the palace. Bedrolls are strewn about on the floor, with blankets and pillows stacked haphazardly in a corner. Aragorn sits on the floor, motioning me to take a place beside him. I sit daintily, out of fear of ruining my new dress. Gimli and Legolas sit across from us.

"So what happened?" Aragorn queries.

"A cocky idiot had a knife and felt lucky," I respond.

"..."

"The story the children were telling you is true for the most part. It was what I told them when they asked why I look different from them. Some of it was censored since I did not wish to deal with angry parents complaining that I have spoiled their precious children's minds. But here is a summary of my unabridged life.

"I was left on an elderly couple's doorstep when I was only a few weeks old. My parents left a note and a necklace, which I am wearing now, with me. All the note stated was my name and they desperately needed someone to care for me.

"The couple raised me as their own, and they taught me much of what I know, including the Sindarin. Once I grew to be nine years old, there was an Orc raid on Edoras and they were the only casualties. In their will I was named their sole heir.

"I raised myself, for the most part, the past eleven moons, which brings us to now. Oh, I took up the Rohirric name 'Cresa' to try and assimilate after Seobryn and Kedelilind, the elderly couple, were killed. Now to now, I had not expected the children to relay my story to you, and it made me rather frustrated. The song was taught to me by Lily and Bryn, and that did not help with the frustration. My emotions took over and I went outside to get air where I was manhandled by that bastard I knocked out. And you know what happened from there."

"Your tale is not a happy one," Gimli frowns deeply.

"No one has an easy childhood. Especially if you happen to be different."

"What you have told us does not explain your future sight," Aragorn points out. "How did you get the power? And do you have other powers?"

"Right, well, I have magic powers ranging from lighting things on fire to future sight, as you put it. I have no idea where they came from. The extent of my powers is unknown to me. I know I can make plants grow, cast illusions, control the elements, teleport, see the future, turn invisible, speak with animals, converse in languages I have not heard, I do not get injured easily, and I do not die easily."

"How do those last two work?" Gimli asks.

"If I may borrow a knife? And a blanket?" Aragorn hands me a dagger from his belt and Legolas spreads a blanket on the floor. I nod curtly to them and position my hand on the blanket, the knife poised above it. I pause for a moment, set down the knife, and roll up my sleeves before repositioning myself. Before the men can react, I slice my hand off, a gush of blood staining the blanket. When I look up, I see the fear-laden curiosity in their eyes. I hold up my hand as the bone grows back out, coating itself in muscle and skin. I press my mended hand into the blanket, drawing the blood from it and back into my body.

"You should join the Fellowship," Gimli says boldly.

"Of the ring? You three are a part of it then. One of your party has fallen. Nine there were and four were here. The hobbits are two. What has happened to the remaining members of the Fellowship?"

"You could not have gotten all of that from your vision of Frodo and Sam," Legolas whispers.

"No, I could not. It was from your reactions."

"Clever," Aragorn smiles grimly. "Has Théoden had you take the warrior oaths yet?"

"No,"

"I will see to it that he does not. I believe it would be in our best interests if you joined the Fellowship as Gimli said."

"I am honored by the offer, but I will only accept if is alright with all of you,"

"We need all the help we can get," Legolas says.

"And ye already know my answer since I came up with the idea!" Gimli grumbles.

"Then, welcome to the Fellowship of the Ring, Idhrenniel," Aragorn grins.

"La fael. Thank you," I bow my head respectfully. "Is there anything I ought to know?"

"There is no need to be formal. We certainly will not be. And we will leave early in the morning tomorrow for safe land. There is a large party of orcs and Uruk-hai heading for Edoras and they should be here within two days. Be in the stables about three hours past first light. Get some rest. Legolas, please walk her home. We do not need another man trying to harm her."

"Very well," Legolas says, following me out. I keep my fiddle close to my chest for comfort as we walk.

"Do you sing?" I ask softly.

"Not often,"

"That is not often enough.

A Bereth thar Ennui Aeair! / Calad ammen i reniar/ Mi 'alad hremmin ennorath/ A Elbereth Gilthoniel/ I chin a thûl lín míriel,"

"Not many know 'O Queen Beyond the Western Sea', even within the woodland realms."

"I suppose I am special then. Thank you for walking me home,"

"Le creoso (you're welcome)."

"Abarad, Legolas (until tomorrow, Legolas),"

"Wait, I believe I know who your parents are."

"Who?"

"Anebriwien and Rissa Aduial. Their child went missing from Lothlórien a few weeks after its birth."

"Ni 'lassui (thank you),"

"Le creoso. Posto vae (You're welcome. Rest well.)" The ellon turns and heads back to the palace and I close the door. I quickly change into my nightclothes then stow my dress and slippers in the secret compartment in my dresser. I pack a bag with rations for several weeks and my lute.

!"Going somewhere?"! Rana nickers.

"We both are," I reply dismally.

!"Where and with who?"!

"I have no idea and with the Fellowship of the Ring. They asked me to join and I accepted. We are leaving Edoras tomorrow morning. There are orcs and uruks heading for us."

!"Do not forget your knives."!

"Silly, I shall keep them with me. We will go down fighting."

!"Glad to know that you have complete confidence in your combat skills."!

"Sarcasm only annoys the listeners, Wanderer."

!"I learned from you."!

"Oh, hush. You will have to be nice to others. No biting or kicking. Unless they start it, but only defend yourself if needed. I need a focused mare for this or we will both be slaughtered."

!"Fine. Which blades will you take?"!

"Ereb-lalaith, Din-estel, Elen-laer, and Lost-lor. Perhaps Lost-estel and Bein-ast as well,"

!"Such sad yet appropriate choices. Lonely Laughter, Silent Hope, Star Song, Empty Dream, Empty Hope, and Beautiful Dust. What about Megil en Rana (sword of the wanderer)?"!

"It is going to be in place of Laer en Estel. If I bring too many blades I will not be able to carry them all."

!"I see. I am going to sleep. Goodnight, Ren,"!

"Losto vae (sleep well)," Rana shuffles away from the door to her small stable. I return inside and begin laying out supplies for the journey. My knee-high leather boots, two pairs of sturdy leather breeches worn to the point of softness, two white blouses that make me feel like a pirate, two leather corsets that serve as remedial armor, my blades in sheaths, my long bow and quiver, arrows, and a thong to tie up my hair. When half of the clothes are put in the bag with rations and my lute, I curl up on my bed, but I soon realize I won't be able to get to sleep. There is too much on my mind. I get up grumpily and put on the clothes I left out. There is the need to be doing something settling in my bones. So I unpack my knives and strap them to myself before grabbing my bow and arrows and heading to the archery range.

The night air is cool and deceptively calm, with tiny stars shining down and a smiling crescent moon. Sweet grass scent wafts through the silence of the night. As I expected, the archery range is empty. Arrow after arrow hits the bull's eye, and I fetch them when my quiver runs empty. I take to throwing my knives at the targets, and until first light, I switch between bow and blade. I return to my house to ready Rana.

"Echuio, Wanderer," I poke her snout, startling the mare from sleep.

!"Oh god, Elvish this early?"! She snorts.

"It is going to be a long day. We must be ready for it."

!"Ugh..."!

"Dôl gîn lost, astalder (Your head is empty, valiant one),"

!"Nwalmaer, hurry up and make me pretty (Tortured one),"!

"Pe-channas (idiot)," I pick up a brush and smooth her fur out, quickly moving onto her hooves, mane, and tail.

!"Û-bedin Edhellen (I do not speak Elvish),"!

"You remembered. Tis not the most useful of phrases but it will get you by. Haha, pedin i phith in aníron, a nin ú-cheniathog (Haha, I can say what I want and you won't understand me),"

!"Shut up."!

"Should I braid your hair?"

!"Please no. I look terrible half bald."! I whack her on the nose with her brush and continue on. !"Ow."!

"It is your own fault,"

!"We have company. Stop talking to me so you won't look as crazy."!

"Who?" I whisper.

!"Dark hair, male, human, stubbly, tall. No one I know."!

"A, Aragorn (Hello Aragorn)," I greet without turning. "Tolo, govano ven (Come, join us)."

"A. Mancerig (Hello. What are you doing?)" Aragorn moves beside Rana, making her ears flatten.

!"For the love of tulips, stop the damn Elvish!"! Rana whinnies furiously. !"You are giving me a headache!"!

"Well I am not speaking in Elvish." I give a pointed look at Rana. "We give her a headache."

"You can speak with her?" Aragorn asks. "That is incredible. How? You are the only one speaking aloud,"

"Mind-speak. I generally speak aloud since it seems to unnerve the Rohirrim, and she speaks in her mind. It is disturbing at times since I can see her thoughts."

"How is it disturbing?"

"Think about all the things you think about on a daily basis and imagine if someone had to listen in at all times."

"I see your point,"

"I believe there was another reason you and over than idle chatter,"

"We leave in half an hour. Meet us at the main stables in a quarter of an hour."

"Very well,"

"N'i lû tôl (until then)."

"Galu (goodbye)." Aragorn nods and walks away. I put Rana's bridle on her and move the straps into place, then throw a small blanket on her back followed by her saddle. She snaps at me when the girth is tight, but I ignore her knowing that if I loosen it she will probably throw me out of childish play. I duck inside to get my packs, make sure the doors and windows are locked, and return to Rana to attach them to her saddle. I swing onto the mare and urge her to the main stables. One horse stretches out to sniff her and Rana's ears flatten against her skull.

"Behave. Remember, we have to meet with the Fellowship." I scold.

!"Fine."! She whinnies loudly, causing a chain reaction. The stable boy approaches us, frowning.

"If your mare won't behave, you will have to take her outside." He sighs.

"After I finish here I will. Have you seen an elf, a dwarf, and a dark haired man pass through?"

"They are in the last two stalls."

"Thank you," Rana trots down the aisle of horses to find the men.

!"Is that them?"! She nickers, spotting a group of three men.

"Actually yes," I reply. She speeds up her trot and stops directly behind Gimli, exhaling deeply on his head. "Rana! Daro, pe-channas (stop, idiot). Sorry Gimli. My mare is an idiot."

"It's fine, lass." The dwarf chuckles as I dismount.

"You are early," Legolas comments.

"Is that a problem?" I grin deviously.

"Û, I only thought you would be slower on your feet after a night at the archery range."

"Why Legolas, have you been following me?"

"Û! I saw you go up as I watched the stars,"

"I kid,"

"I see what your friend meant about your wit."

"I will take that as a compliment. Do all the townspeople know we are to leave?"

"Yes. Some refuse to go." Aragorn shakes his head.

"If there is time I could talk to them."

"There is no time, I am afraid. The soldiers are to get everyone on the road in ten minutes."

"Very well. Is there anywhere specific I should ride?"

"No, but be ready for battle. We will be vulnerable."

"I have no further questions."

!"Tell the elf to stop petting me,"! Rana snorts.

"Legolas, your touch bothers Rana. She does not like many, man or beast."

"Goheno nin (sorry)." The ellon says sheepishly, withdrawing his hand. Rana shakes her head, and then decides to use me as a scratching post.

"Pardon me," I sigh, bracing my hands on Aragorn's and Legolas's shoulders as Rana puts all of her weight into itching her face. When she stops, I remove my hands and face her, "That was unnecessary,"

!"You liked the contact with the elf though. You are welcome."! She nickers playfully.

"Shut up or I will leave you here tied to a post," I say, trying to cover the blush coloring my cheeks. Rana begins prancing around victoriously and hits me with her snout.

!"Haha elf, you are a lucky one!"

"Gah, stop talking!"

!"Never! Idhrenniel and elf-boy sitting in a-"!

"If that is how you are going to be, we will have to see how you survive on grass like the normal horses."

!"No apples or tulips?"!

"Not even a stray berry."

!"I'll stop!"!

"Good girl,"

!"I bet that is what he will say after you-"!

"Hush, pe-channas! Why do I keep you?"

!"Because you love me?"!

"I assure you that is not it,"

"What are ye two talkin' about?" Gimli chuckles. I had completely forgotten they were here.

!"How she likes-"!

"Uh... The weather." Rana shakes her head furiously, denying my claim. The men laugh heartily.

"Really, lass, what is it?" Gimli smiles.

"Nothing of import. I am going to run Rana in circles now. See you on the road," I growl at Rana and she skitters back, but she's forgotten that I'm faster than her. Snatching her reins, I leap onto her back and gallop her to Miena's house.

"Ren! Mommy, it's Auntie Ren!" Rhoryn squeals.

"I see that, honey. Now go help baba pack," Miena smiles. She looks tired and discouraged as she approaches me.

"We leave in five. Will you be ready?" I question softly.

"Yes. There is only the matter of getting Rhoryn to walk however far we are going and we shall be fine."

"Tell him it is an adventure Aragorn and Théoden arranged. He will be more willing if he knows this was planned by his new friend."

"Thank you. In all honesty, I am surprised you do not have a child by now. You are far better with them than adults, seeing as you provoke most everyone you talk to."

"And that is exactly why I am not wed and do not have children."

"Ren, do not say that."

"You know that it is true."

"Ren... This is going to be sudden, but Gaenyr and I were talking last night and we agreed that if anything happens to us, we want you to take care of Rhoryn."

"Miena, you will be fine."

"Do not lie to me, Ren. We are going to be sitting ducks on the road and even more so once we reach... Wherever."

"I will take care of Rhoryn. I swear this to you."

"Thank you,"

"You would do the same for me."

"I would. I believe our time is up. They are waiting for you,"

"I will visit you on the road the moment I sense anything."

"Goodbye, old friend."

"Namárië, mellonamin (farewell, my friend)." I smile sadly as Rana returns to the stable at an unhurried walk, knowing full well that she is right. Many will not return to Edoras. Even the beasts sense it. I feel it in my bones and in my heart. The sudden surge of emotions is making my calm mask crack.

"You look upset." Aragorn says questioningly.

"This will not be a journey that ends well." I reply, voice cracking slightly at the end. "Everyone dies eventually. Why prolong the inevitable? I am sure Saruman has kept Edoras under his watch for quite a while, waiting for an opportunity such as this. We can expect an attack and a vicious one at that..."

"Stop with your doom and gloom, child!" Haiweth growls as she walks by. "I will have none of it! Feel free to strike her. She needs it sometimes. And make sure she sleeps! If that girl passes out on your watch and something happens, so help me I will tear your man parts off and feed them to the stray dogs!"

"She is..." Aragorn trails off when Haiweth is out of hearing range.

"Fierce, over-protective, insane? That she is." I laugh. "Rana, are you good on auto-pilot?"

!"Yes. I will try not to wake you,"! She whinnies quietly.

"I should be awake in no more than an hour."

"You intend to sleep on a moving horse?" Gimli asks incredulously.

"I have done so plenty of times."

"Don't fall lass," I lift an eyebrow at the dwarf, but remain silent. Before long my eyes flutter closed. When I wake, I am refreshed.

"How much time has passed?" I yawn, stretching feebly.

"Just over a day." Legolas replies.

"You should have woken me!"

"You needed the sleep."

"I will not deny that. Has anything happened?"

"No. I believe your friends wish to speak with you though. They are near the back."

"I will rejoin with you later."

"There is no rush, lass." Gimli says.

"One can never be certain. The longer we are out here the more it feels that we are being hunted." Rana stamps and gallops to the back at a pace slow for her. She is probably surveying the land to see where rocks may slip or hooves may catch. I find Haiweth leading an ox with a sleeping Rhoryn help by Miena seated atop it. Gaenyr is in his armor atop a sturdy horse with a sword at his side.

"Is there news?" Gaenyr asks almost fearfully.

"Not yet. But with each step the men grow tenser." I cast my gaze over the mountainside, hoping for something to happen so it can be done with.

"As do you it appears." Miena comments.

"It is unsettling being in the open. If there were caverns or trees it would not be so bad, but there is only brush and rocks spread sparsely about."

"You are saying there is nowhere to hide."

"I am saying there is nowhere to run. Nothing that can save a child if put up high enough, nothing to keep a family dry and warm."

"There is no hope then." Gaenyr states sullenly.

"There is a little," Haiweth reprimands. "But it is hidden from those who do not search for it."

* * *

**Why hello there, reader! This'll probably be the longest outro since I forgot to do one on the last chapter~ Much like any other story, how often I update is based on how many reviews there are to fuel my inspiration and there've been none so far. It's lucky that I remembered to check this while on my laptop... Feel free to leave a comment about what you like, what you don't like (be constructive; tell me what I can do so I can fix it, don't just outright say "she's annoying" with no solution), what you wish would happen, what you wish didn't happen, if it should slow down or speed up, etc. I already have a lot of this typed and orginally had no intention of posting this to a site (it is finished, but it was originally hand-written) which is why the endings are a little awkward transition-wise. Not all of the story is typed yet, so I'll still be making changes and tweaking parts that need it. The OCs original name was actually Fenielin, which is my main character's name on a video game, but I changed it due to things to be explained later. **

**DISCLAIMER: A note on the songs! They're all modern day tunes slightly modified to fit the setting! I do not own any of them (no matter how much I wish to). Also, if I owned LoTR, there would be a lot more dragons and unicorns.**

**The next chapter gets really strange because I added some bonding between Miena and Idhrenniel at three in the morning about a month ago and it's probably one of my favourites.**

**I'll try to update every weekend, which will be somewhat difficult with my practice schedule and various things my family drags me off to do, but at least I'll try! (reviews will probably make me update faster *wink wink*)**

**This story will cater to you as much as possible, and I won't be able to do that if no one gives me some advice. ****Make my day and leave a review, lovelies!**

**If you want to stalk me on instagram: allthedits**


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